


Something So Magic About You (Don't You Agree)

by doctorbuffypotterlock79



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Lesbian AU, WITCHES AU, idiots to lovers, writ said B is ‘pure of heart dumb of ass’ and that’s 100 percent true
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-27
Updated: 2019-12-27
Packaged: 2021-02-25 20:47:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21941659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctorbuffypotterlock79/pseuds/doctorbuffypotterlock79
Summary: Brooke and Vanessa are two witches in the same coven who have had crushes on each other for years. Their pets decide to do something about it.
Relationships: Brooke Lynn Hytes/Vanessa Vanjie Mateo
Comments: 12
Kudos: 29





	Something So Magic About You (Don't You Agree)

**Author's Note:**

> This is a way overdue prompt for @gradtones, who asked for B and V's familiars being friends. I hope you all enjoy this, and please leave some feedback if you like! Your comments all mean so much to me! Thank you so much to Writ for betaing and making me cackle with your comments  
> Title from From Eden by Hozier

“Matilda, what are you doing? You’re not supposed to go in the woods at night!” Brooke scrambles after her black cat, coasting along the leafy forest floor. The cold November night is alive around her, the chilly air and fallen leaves like old friends. This is a night for magic to run free, and Brooke’s fingertips buzz with it. 

Brooke performs a simple light spell, light spilling from her hand and illuminating the forest. Her black boots crunch over the leaves as she follows Matilda into a clearing, bare branches stretching across the sky to form a canopy over the world, making Brooke feel as cozy as she did in her giant sweaters. 

Her cat sits smugly on a log, a large snowy owl next to her. Brooke’s heart thumps in her chest. She’d recognize that owl anywhere. It’s--

“Bertha, what the hell?” a gruff voice shouts. A circle of light grows bigger until it reaches the clearing, a short woman with wavy brown hair appearing with it. 

Brooke’s cheeks burn hotter than a fire spell as she rakes her fingers through her hair. Vanessa had said _hey_ to Brooke at their very first nightly coven magic lesson when they were 11, Brooke returning the greeting as her legs shook under her desk and her stomach twisted like a pretzel, and for the past 15 years Brooke has been lucky to manage a full sentence when Vanessa is near since. 

“Brooke? Is that you?” Vanessa asks. 

“Um, yeah.”

“Haven’t seen you since the last coven meeting. Whatcha been up to?” 

Not for the first time, Brooke wishes for a spell that would give her something funny to say. How could she read so many books, but never have the right words to say herself? “Oh, you know. The usual,” Brooke mumbles. “How about you?”

“The same.”

They stand in silence until Vanessa’s owl, Bertha, flies over and perches on her shoulder. 

“I guess I better get going. Got a hot date my with my TV tonight,” Vanessa excuses herself. 

Brooke keeps her face smooth even if she’s crumbling inside. Of course Vanessa couldn’t wait to get away from her. 

“Me too,” Brooke says as Matilda slinks over to her. “I, um, also watch TV.” Her face burns like she’s been dipped in lava when she realizes what she’s just said, but Vanessa doesn’t seem to mind. Instead, she smiles.

“See you around.” 

And then she’s gone. 

Brooke groans as she scoops up Matilda. _I also watch TV?_ Why did she sound like a robot when she talked to Vanessa? Scratch that, robots probably have _better_ communication skills. 

“Oh well. It’s not like I have a chance with her anyway. Why would someone as cool as her want me?” Brooke sighs, heading home with her fingers buried in Matilda’s fur to calm her. 

Matilda curls up at Brooke’s feet in bed, her human finally asleep after a long rant about how stupid she had sounded in the forest followed by an hour of reading and then an hour of tossing and turning. 

Matilda sighs. This has been going on for 15 years, and she’s had enough. 

\---

A few miles away, Bertha takes flight after listening to Vanessa gripe about her word choice ( _‘Hot date with my TV?’ Who the hell says that?_ ) and the uselessness of her crush ( _Brooke could never like me anyway, what’s the point?_ ). 

As Bertha’s wings unfurl beneath the white moon, so does a plan in her mind.

\---

Vanessa wakes up and finds her bowl of sage has emptied in the night. She takes her first gulp of coffee and considers what could have happened to it, locking eyes with her mischievous owl. Bertha sits in posed innocence on top of her chair, the magical owl not needing to sleep during the day like regular owls. 

“Did you have something to do with this, Bertha?” she asks, holding up the empty bowl. 

Bertha stretches out her wings and shrugs. 

“Whatever.” Vanessa sighs. “I’ll just go to...ugh, I’ll have to go to Brooke’s store! Now I’m gonna look like an idiot in front of her again!”

Vanessa usually only sees Brooke at the monthly coven meetings, when Brooke’s eyes and the careful way she takes notes distract Vanessa from every word spoken, or at occasional trips to the magic store. This is two days in a row, and maybe she can use this opportunity instead of blowing it like she has with every other one for the past 15 years. 

She finishes her breakfast and barricades herself in the bathroom, fixing her hair and applying makeup. She knows it’s all pointless, that she’ll just embarrass herself again anyway. Brooke is so smart, the smartest witch in the whole coven, and there’s no way she’d ever want to be with someone like Vanessa. 

Vanessa tugs on her bright red coat and then her black gloves, the winter chill coming early in November this year. Her body is warm with magic despite the cold, and the world seems brighter as she reflects that even if she doesn’t have anyone to share her bed with or eat dinner with every night, she can still do magic, and that’s no small thing. Bertha curls up happily inside Vanessa’s coat, as Vanessa makes her way down to the magic supply and book shop Brooke owns with Nina, the leader of their coven. 

The hand-carved sign with its precise lettering welcomes her to Nina and Brooke’s Magic Supply (Vanessa knows Nina wanted to name it ‘Check Yourself Before You Hex Yourself,’ but had settled in the name of professionalism).

“Hi, Vanessa!” Nina calls as soon as she enters, cementing her title of Most Cheerful Person in history. Nina always has a smile for everyone and greets her customers by name, asking them about their lives and remembering tiny details about them, like how Vanessa is allergic to dogs and her favorite pizza topping is pepperoni. 

Vanessa opens her coat and Bertha perches on her shoulder as she walks to the counter, Nina smiling behind it. Brooke sits on a stool, nose in a book, brow furrowed and lips parted slightly as she reads. Her black cat rests calmly in her lap. Brooke wears a giant olive green sweater with the sleeves pulled down over her long fingers, and Vanessa’s heart almost leaps out of her chest at how adorable she is. Too bad Vanessa has no chance with her. 

“Hey, Nina. Hey, Brooke.”

Brooke’s head snaps up. “Huh? Oh, hi, Vanessa,” she says quickly, cheeks going pink. 

“What brings you in today?” Nina asks. 

“Just need some sage,” she explains, stashing her gloves in her pocket. “I think Bertha was up to no good last night.”

Her owl gives a light hoot. 

“Oh, Brooke, why don’t you and Vanessa go get it together?” Nina suggests. 

“That’s okay, I can do it myself--”

“Nonsense!” Nina declares. “Brooke would love to go with you, wouldn’t she?” she shoots a pointed glance at Brooke. 

“I would,” Brooke says in the quiet, sincere voice Vanessa heard for the first time when they were 11. It takes her back to magic classes under a sky glowing with sunset, Brooke so smart and studious and silent that Vanessa had never dared give her more than a simple _hey_ at the start of each class, because even though she could talk for days she couldn’t think of anything that wouldn’t make her sound like an idiot in front of Brooke. 

Brooke sets her book down and places Matilda on the ground, the cat following along after her feet. 

Vanessa trails behind Brooke, reaching for Bertha’s feathers to keep herself steady at the prospect of being alone with Brooke. _Say something. Say something_ , she chants to herself, but keeping up with Brooke’s long legs is making conversation difficult. 

“Did you have a good night?” Vanessa finally tries once they come to a stop. 

“Me? Yeah, I did. I read a little and that was mostly it. How about you?”

Vanessa had put on a face mask and watched trashy reality TV, taking comfort in the fact that at least her life wasn’t in as much of a shambles as the people on the show, devoured cold pizza and a row of Oreos, and talked to her pet owl for an hour. 

“Just watched some TV,” Vanessa answers. 

Vanessa looks up and sees the sage on a shelf at least two feet above her head. “Good thing you’re here to reach that.” _That’s flirty, isn’t it?_

“Guess so,” Brooke says, grinning as she hands her the vial. Their fingers touch longer than necessary as Vanessa accepts it, warmth shuddering through her arm, and all she can think is how the green of Brooke’s eyes makes the sage dull. 

Neither of them notice Bertha slipping her beak into Vanessa’s pocket and dropping her gloves into Matilda’s waiting paws. 

\---

Brooke sets about her closing duties at the store, rushing through the sweeping so she can take her time fixing the bookshelves. Books had been Brooke’s friends since she was old enough to pick out short words, leaving the library with a stack of books taller than she was, and she felt more comfortable around them than she did other people. At least you didn’t have to talk to a book. 

She didn’t need much more than a book, Matilda, and some tea to make her happy; she never had. She never admitted it to anyone; doing something so quiet and boring would get her laughed at, and is surely another reason her crush on Vanessa is pointless. Because why would Vanessa, who had been so confident and charming and casual in magic class and is still just as vibrant now, want to spend time with quiet, boring Brooke?

The feeling of Matilda pawing at her leg snaps her out of it. 

“What’s that you got?” she asks, bending down to remove a pair of black gloves from the cat’s mouth. 

“I bet these are Vanessa’s gloves,” she says, neglecting to acknowledge that she only recognizes the gloves because of her inability to stop staring at Vanessa’s hands. “I’ll have to bring them to her tonight. It’s been so cold, she’ll need them,” she decides, also neglecting to acknowledge that Vanessa could probably go without them until the morning. 

She pulls on her dark blue coat. It’s only a short drive to Vanessa’s apartment and Brooke likes driving at night, the clear air and dark sky enough to soothe some of her fears. 

She knocks on Vanessa’s door and Brooke doesn’t know why she’s so shocked when Vanessa answers; why wouldn’t she? But anything she might have planned to say flies out of her brain when she sees Vanessa, her brown eyes lit up in surprise, her small hands rubbing at her neck. Brooke has done enough staring at Vanessa’s hands today, but she can’t resist, admiring her short fingers and rounded nails with chipped crimson polish, her smooth, delicate wrists. 

“Brooke?” Vanessa asks. A confused wrinkle forms between her eyebrows and Brooke has to restrain herself from smoothing it out.

“Your gloves,” Brooke blurts. “You, um, I found your gloves in the shop. I thought you might want them.” She thrusts them at Vanessa, who looks surprised but not unhappy. Could she really be _happy_ to see Brooke? 

“Oh, thank you. You didn’t have to come all this way.”

“It was nothing.” Brooke shifts around, Matilda meowing loudly at her feet. A second later Bertha gives a resounding hoot inside the apartment and flutters over to the door, dropping a box of spaghetti on the floor. Vanessa picks it up after scolding Bertha, then turns the box over in her hands. 

“Hey, that reminds me, since you’re here, you want to stay for dinner? I’m making spaghetti,” Vanessa offers, eyes widening like she can’t believe the words just came out of her mouth. 

Dinner with Vanessa? Teenage Brooke would have peed herself at such an offer--hell, _adult_ Brooke might lose control of her bladder soon. But what will they talk about for an entire dinner? What could she possibly say to get her crush of 15 years to like her? Vanessa will probably hate her, or maybe she’ll be so boring Vanessa will fall asleep right at the table. “I wouldn’t want to impose on you or anything--”

“You’re not imposing. I always end up with enough spaghetti to feed half the city, at least you can eat some of it with me.”

And Brooke can’t say no. 

—-

Even though she was the one that invited her and she’s had fantasies about this hundreds of times, Vanessa still can’t quite believe Brooke is sitting at her kitchen table. 

She keeps biting her lip and wringing her hands, and Vanessa thinks how odd it is to see Brooke’s hands without a book in them. 

Is Brooke so fidgety because she doesn’t want to be here? Is she wondering how she’ll survive an entire dinner with someone as obnoxious as Vanessa? Vanessa busies herself with getting the food ready to push back her fears that she’ll make a fool of herself, or sound so dumb that Brooke runs away. 

Vanessa sets the bowls down and races for something to say. 

“She follows you everywhere, huh?” Vanessa asks, nodding toward the cat curled against Brooke’s thigh.

Brooke smiles. “Yeah. The letter for magic classes said we could have a cat or an owl, and I always wanted a cat. She’s kind of my best friend.” 

“That’s sweet,” Vanessa says. She smiles at the careful yet graceful way Brooke butters her bread. “Does she ever bring you dead mice? ‘Cause Bertha thinks that’s a real present for me.”

 _Dead mice?_ They’re eating dinner and she talks about _dead mice?_ Brooke doesn’t seem to mind though; she just shakes her head and laughs.

“She hasn’t, which is good. Bugs and rats and anything like that creep me out. I’d probably run out of my apartment screaming.”

Vanessa giggles as she twirls her spaghetti. This is going better than she thought, but it’s only been a few minutes and she can’t think of anything else to say. Should she try to say something smart to impress Brooke? Should she just talk about something normal?

“How’s work?” Vanessa blurts.

Brooke tells her about the new order of books they received, and there’s such love and admiration in Brooke’s voice that it makes Vanessa tingle, her heart surging with affection for Brooke. 

“You like to read a lot,” Vanessa says.

Brooke nods enthusiastically. “Yeah. I’ve pretty much always been that way. I’ve always had trouble sleeping, so I would either practice magic or read to fall asleep when I was younger.”

“No wonder you’re such a good witch, with all your midnight magic practice. My ass was snoring away.”

Brooke’s cheeks turn pink, and it makes her even cuter. Vanessa wishes she could rest her hand on Brooke’s cheek, let the warmth fill her. 

“I just wanted to be really good. I’m the only witch in our year who doesn’t have magic parents. I didn’t want to be behind, or for the others to think I didn’t deserve to be there, you know?” Brooke explains. 

Brooke’s constant studying and unbreakable focus makes more sense now. And it explains why Brooke had been doing third-year and sometimes even fourth-year level work at 11. Vanessa knows there had been a few girls who resented Brooke, complaining that it was unfair for her to be the best in their year when she didn’t even have magic parents. Vanessa had told them off once, Brooke’s quiet gentleness something she always wanted to protect, and still does. 

Vanessa nods. “Yeah, I get that. You were always the best witch in class.”

“You were always the funniest,” Brooke counters. 

“I guess I was, wasn’t I?” Vanessa cackles. 

“That time you made the tomato fly at Silky--”

“That was an _accident--_ ”

“Sure it was.” Brooke smiles and Vanessa smiles back. How has this been so easy? Does Brooke like Vanessa as much as Vanessa likes her? She can’t, can she?

They talk idly about different TV shows, and the whole time, Vanessa is at war with herself, wondering if she’s imagining the sparkle in Brooke’s eyes, the shy smile Brooke keeps flashing at her. Does it mean what she thinks it means?

When Brooke starts to head out, Vanessa takes the leap. 

“If you ever want to do this again sometime, just call me,” Vanessa offers at the door. 

“I, um, I’d like that,” Brooke says. She lifts Matilda into her arms and sets off into the night, leaving Vanessa to thrust a victorious fist in the air while Bertha purses her beak. 

\---

“Nina, you have to help me!” Brooke cries the second she enters the shop the next morning. 

Brooke was up most of the night replaying her dinner with Vanessa, trying to figure out if it seemed like Vanessa had been into her or if Brooke was just seeing too far into things. Vanessa had laughed and smiled a lot, but she usually did those things at coven meetings, and Brooke is stupid to think they had just been for her last night, even though each quirk of Vanessa’s lips makes Brooke’s whole body tingle. 

“What is it?” Nina asks in worry as Brooke sits with her behind the counter. “Who do I have to beat up for you?”

Brooke snorts, a rush of affection for Nina--who personally came to see eleven-year-old Brooke and invite her to magic class--overcoming her panic. “We both know you’d never hurt anyone.”

“True.” Nina smiles. “Well, who do I have to lecture about kindness for you?”

“It’s nothing bad. It’s...I had dinner with Vanessa last night.”

Nina’s eyebrows fly up in excitement. “And?”

“And I--I really like her.” Brooke pauses, waiting for Nina’s reaction. But she doesn’t get one, Nina just nodding along expectantly. 

“Oh, honey, am I supposed to be surprised?” Nina asks when she notices Brooke watching her. “Because you’ve been looking at her with heart-eyes for _at least_ ten years now.”

Brooke knows Nina is right. From that very first meeting, when Brooke was trying not to throw up while surrounded by other witches who came from all-magic families, unlike her, Vanessa had brought a smile to Brooke’s face with her antics, joking around with the teachers. She was always nice to Brooke, and she didn’t think Vanessa knew, but Brooke had heard Vanessa once telling the other kids to stop saying mean things about her.

If there’s even a chance Vanessa does feel the same way, Brooke has to take it. 

“You’re right,” Brooke agrees. “She said to call her if I want to do it again, and I want to. Can you help me with--with what to say?”

“Of course I can.”

Brooke’s hands sweat so much her phone almost slips through, but Nina keeps her steady in the office and all but commands Brooke to leave early so she can get ready. 

Brooke drives home, mind buzzing with how fast Vanessa had said _yes_. 

Vanessa really _likes_ her.

It’s almost a form of magic itself. 

\---

Vanessa checks her phone so many times for a call or text from Brooke--just in case she didn’t hear the notification--that she has to plug it in while waiting for Brooke to pick her up for dinner. 

She almost jumped up and down on her bed when Brooke called, giving what sounded like a nervously rehearsed offer of a date. Vanessa is pretty sure Nina was hissing instructions in the background, but she doesn’t care. She’s going on a date with Brooke. Brooke _likes_ her. Likes her so much she called and asked her out

“What do you think, Bertha?” Vanessa asks, holding up two sweaters. “Pink or red?”

Bertha’s beak curves toward the pink. 

“You’re right,” Vanessa agrees. 

She pulls on the sweater and fixes her hair, each wave springing with the excitement of seeing Brooke. So what if she’s ready 30 minutes early, bouncing up and down like a kid? Vanessa breathlessly paces her kitchen, hand flying to her phone every five seconds. 

6:00, and still no Brooke. 

6:10 and Vanessa is starting to worry.

6:20 and she can’t fight the fear anymore.

Brooke is always the first one at every coven meeting and Vanessa doubts if Brooke has ever been late for a single thing in her life. There’s a part of her that can’t deny that something bad happened for Brooke to be late, and it makes her stomach clench. 

And then the phone rings. 

\---

Brooke’s hands are shaking so badly she fumbles the call button twice, finally reaching Vanessa and feeling some panic fade at the sound of her voice. 

“Brooke?” Vanessa asks.

“I…” Brooke’s voice is frozen. 

“Brooke, what’s wrong?” There’s instant concern in Vanessa’s voice, and some part of Brooke’s mind registers that Vanessa is worried about her, cares that much about her. 

“M-Matilda, a dog scared her and she-she ran off in the woods and I can’t find her and it’s raining and dark and--”

“Hey, hey, just breathe.” Vanessa’s voice is calm and steady, but it’s not enough for the avalanche of worry crushing Brooke. “The woods aren’t far from me. Why don’t I go look for her, and you can go home and try to work on a locator spell?” Vanessa suggests. 

It makes sense; location spells are easier to do when you’re emotionally closer to what you’re looking for, but Brooke’s mind can’t focus on sense right now. “But I should be out searching, what if something happens?”

“It’s okay,” Vanessa soothes. “I’ll be there for her. We have a better chance of finding her if you do the spell.”

“Okay,” Brooke agrees shakily. 

“We’ll find her, I promise,” Vanessa vows. 

Brooke gathers up what she needs for the spell, but her heart is beating in her ears and her thoughts are moving too fast to focus.

Matilda has always been more than a cat to her. When she was 13 and up all night sweating and shivering and coughing with the flu, Matilda had moved all the tissues off her bed and woken Brooke’s parents when her fever got too high. When she was at her desk until 1am making sure her homework was perfect, Matilda would paw at Brooke’s leg or plop on her textbook until Brooke went to sleep. Every time Brooke was spiraling into worry about coven meetings or something she said to Vanessa, Matilda would settle into her lap until she calmed down. She let Brooke dress her in ridiculous sweaters and Halloween costumes without protest. Brooke didn’t even think she’d be able to sleep without her cat there. 

She takes a breath and focuses.

\---

Looking for a missing cat in the pouring rain is not how Vanessa expected her first date to go. 

Rain patters against the hood of her coat, her hand throwing a light spell against the dark forest, and Vanessa shivers in fear that this will turn into some sort of horror movie. 

She calls for the cat, unsure how in the world she’ll find it, but knowing she’s going to keep her promise to Brooke. She can’t imagine how scared she would be if Bertha ran away, and she wants to soothe Brooke’s fears. 

She nears a clearing when something rustles, and then something crashes into Vanessa’s legs. She lets out a half-scream, then casts her light down to see a cat. 

“Matilda!” Vanessa exclaims. She pulls the cat up to her chest. “Oh, thank God. Brooke’s been worried sick about you.”

Vanessa wraps the soaked cat in a blanket and speeds her way over to Brooke’s.

Brooke is running her hand through her hair when she answers the door, and her flushed cheeks and wide eyes form an expression Vanessa recognizes from magic school when Brooke was asked to perform spells in front of the class. 

“Sorry Vanessa, I can’t talk, I’m trying to start the locator spell and--”

Vanessa just holds up the cat. 

“--her location keeps moving so it’s hard to get the spell to work and I can’t really concentrate and I--”

“Brooke.”

“--don’t know why she’s been running off so much, she--”

“Brooke!” 

“What--oh, you found her!”

Brooke takes Matilda into her arms and Vanessa can’t help but smile as Brooke kisses the cat’s nose, petting her fur and telling her not to run away again. 

“Thank you so much for bringing her to me,” Brooke says. 

“Oh, sure. It was no problem.”

“Do you--do you want to come inside for a bit? Since our date never happened? I can make tea if you want. Do you like tea? I don’t have any coffee--I don’t really like it, it makes me too jittery, but I can--”

“Tea is fine, Brooke.”

Brooke’s apartment is what Vanessa expected: cozy and neat and with a book collection rivalling a library’s. The home of someone who not only loves books, but who considers books a part of them. There’s two towering bookcases on either side of her TV, a rainbow of books from floor to ceiling. There’s old and new spellbooks, potion guides, and even regular fiction and fantasy books, all neatly ordered. 

Vanessa spies a copy of _Matilda_ on the coffee table, edges worn, cover slightly faded, clearly well-loved. She flips it open and sees a sticker reading _This book belongs to_ on the inside cover, _Brooke Lynn Hytes_ printed in a child’s careful lettering underneath. The tiny letters tug at Vanessa’s heart. 

“Is that why you named her Matilda?” Vanessa asks as Brooke enters with a tray bearing mugs, honey, cream, and cookies. 

Brooke hands her the red mug with owls on it, and Vanessa nods approvingly. They sink into the squashy couch together, and Vanessa smiles as Brooke’s eyes meet hers. 

“Yeah. I almost went with Jiji, from _Kiki’s Delivery Service_ , but I really liked Matilda. I was a lot like her when I was younger.” Brooke lowers her head and blushes. “And don’t laugh, but Miss Honey in the movie was kind of my lesbian awakening.”

Vanessa doesn’t laugh, but a smile does break free across her face. “I can’t laugh, Mary. Six-year-old me was in love with home girl Lavender.” 

Brooke snorts into her mug decorated with books and cats. “In retrospect, that movie probably made a lot of girls gay.” 

Vanessa laughs, and she sees a future of this for her and Brooke, of tea and laughs and brightly shared smiles. 

Vanessa takes a breath. “Brooke, I really like you. I have for a long time, and it’s about time I told you.”

Brooke’s cheeks turn bright pink, and she smiles. “I like you too. Since we were teenagers, really. I never thought you’d like someone as quiet as me.” 

Vanessa can’t help but smile at how Brooke has had the same problem as her all these years, how it could have been fixed it they just stopped being idiots. “I never thought you’d like someone as loud as me.” 

Brooke laughs. “I like you _because_ you’re loud, and courageous, and exciting.” 

“And I like that you’re quiet. I like how determined and caring you are.” 

“God, we’re both idiots, aren’t we?” Brooke shakes her head lightly, taking one of Vanessa’s hands. “Well, I like you. You like me. And that’s what matters now.” 

“Absolutely,” Vanessa agrees, all she can really say because Brooke’s soft hand wrapped around hers is cutting off all the words Vanessa knows. 

“Um, do you wanna watch a movie or something?” Brooke asks. “We could do _Practical Magic_ , if you’re in a witchy mood.”

“I’m always in a witchy mood,” Vanessa answers. 

She nestles up to Brooke on the couch, her body fitting perfectly against her side, and Vanessa feels safe and warm as the rain hammers down outside. She could definitely get used to this, and from Brooke’s smile and sturdy arm around her, she thinks Brooke has the same thought. 

On the arm chair, Bertha settles down next to Matilda, throwing a wing over her as they drift off in celebration of a job well done.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, please comment if you’d like! I’m working on a couple different fics at once, so it might be a bit before I have something up in the new year. Hope you all have a great new year!


End file.
